Fighting Wrath

by Jennifer Miller

  “So, what are you studying anyway?”

  “Ugh, let’s not talk about that. School is kicking my ass lately,” I sigh and rub my temples at the thought.

  He laughs, “No problem. How about we get to know each other instead?”

  I frown, “Okay… and how do you want to do that?”

  His brows raise, “I wish I knew what was going on inside that head of yours. Don’t look so worried. I just thought we could ask each other some questions.”

  “Okay,” I draw out the word hesitantly, not exactly sure what he has in mind. “Questions like what’s your favorite color?”

  “No, nothing that lame. Although, just for the record, my favorite color is red.”

  “Good to know.”

  “I was thinking we could ask more probing questions than that.” He pauses and grins after he says the word ‘probing’ and I shake my head in mirth. “Something more like…” he tips his head to the side while he thinks, and scratches his chin. “If you could live anywhere but here, where would it be?”

  “Oh, that’s easy. I would love to live closer to the ocean. I love it. The breeze, the waves and roar. There’s something about it that just… makes me feel content. There’s nothing like it.”

  “Does that mean you dislike Arizona then? It’s so hot here and no oceans.”

  “Yes, it’s definitely hot, but I love it here too. I’ve always said Arizona would be perfect if it had an ocean. But there are lakes. And the ocean isn’t that far. Not that I ever get there. And the weather…I mean sure, the summers are ridiculous. I could certainly live with less days over a hundred degrees, that’s for sure, but the weather in the fall and winter makes up for it.”

  “I think all Arizonans say that about the weather.”

  “True,” I nod.

  “Okay, your turn. Ask me something.”

  Thinking for a moment, I’m surprised when a random question pops into my mind. “Okay… how about… if your house were on fire, what is the first personal item you would save?”

  “That’s easy. My signed Mohammad Ali photo.”

  “You have a signed Ali photo? That’s cool! Was it a gift or something?”

  “Nope,” he shakes his head and wipes his mouth with a napkin before continuing. “It’s one of the first extremely frivolous things I ever bought myself when I had some spending money. Every cent I had earned prior to that went to something like groceries, rent, utilities…you know, the basic adult responsibilities. Maybe that seems superficial or whatever, but that photo has meaning to me. Not just because I admire a man like Ali for his perseverance, dedication and of course his mad fighting skills,” he grins. “But it’s also a symbol of being comfortable enough to do something just for myself for the first time in a long time. Something that given my life, has never been easy.”

  I want to ask him more. I want to find out what hasn’t been easy, and why, but aside from this not being the time or place, part of me doesn’t want to get emotionally involved. I already find myself drawn to him and this little glimpse at more, has a way of ripping my heart wide open. My insides are screaming for more, to connect, to bond. Plus, I just plain understand what he means. I totally get how spending hard earned money on something other than heavy responsibilities can matter – as silly as it may seem to someone else. So, instead of asking for more information, I find myself nodding, hoping I convey my understanding through my eyes.

  He smiles softly, “Do you have something that was ever given to you, or maybe something you bought that means a lot to you?”

  “When I was a little girl my grandma gave me a small dream catcher to hang above my bed. I was going through a nasty nightmare phase, and almost nightly I’d wake up screaming in my sleep. When she gave it to me, she said that it’s believed that hanging one above your bed gives the owner good dreams, but before she would let me hang it she said there was a ritual we had to perform.”

  “What kind of ritual?”

  I smile at the memory, “She told me that before we hung it up, we had to do a dance with it. She said the dance would activate it; bind me to it. She had me hold it in my hand while we danced in circles around my bed chanting ‘no more bad dreams, bad dreams be gone.’ We hung it above my bed together and I remember it was a while before I had a bad dream again. She died not long after that.”

  He reaches out and takes my hand and I hold it tightly, doing my best to keep my eyes dry. “I’m sorry. She sounds like she was amazing.”

  Smiling, I nod my head in agreement. Talking about that moment, brings the memory alive as though it were yesterday. I see us dancing around my bed, the massive rays of sunshine shining through my drapeless window reflected off her face and head perfectly. They made her blonde hair, the same color as my own, sparkle and shine like spun gold. Her smile was wide, and her blue eyes always seemed to sparkle with love, understanding, and mischief. She made a tough family life feel better. Her death at such a young age was devastating and I felt a deep pain from it for a long time.

  “So you’d definitely save that, then. I can see why.”

  I smile sadly, “I would if I still had it. Definitely.”

  I can tell he wants to ask me what happened to it, but before he can I ask another silly question to change the subject, “Tell me a secret skill you have.”

  Suddenly, his eyes fill with flirtation and that wicked smirk is back on his face as if I flipped a switch that said horny. I feel relief as the heaviness in the air quickly diminishes. He releases my hand and crooks his finger at me gesturing for me to come close. I lean toward him a little. He shakes his head, and crooks his finger at me again. I move more and our face is a few inches apart, the table between us. My heart is pounding, and I wouldn’t look away from his face even if he asked me. He licks his lips and my eyes drop to his mouth. I feel a warm sensation in my lower belly at the sight. I swear if I let myself I would moan out loud. He lowers his voice and says, “I made you come with just a finger. Imagine what I could do with more.”

  My mouth drops open and I sit back in my chair. I can’t help the belly laugh that bursts from me. “Oh my god, you are so lame. Did you seriously just say that?”

  He’s laughing too, and damn he’s beautiful. His whole face is lit up and he’s completely amused with himself, which makes it even funnier. “Wow. That’s definitely a new one.”

  “Glad you like it. It’s also true.”

  “Oh no. I’m not about to go there with you.”

  “Why not? Could be fun,” he teases. I shake my head at him, but I can feel how my lips are curving with amusement and I know my eyes are twinkling with mirth. He’s the craziest combination of adorable and sexy. “Alright fine. My question for you is when are you available to go out?”

  My heart skips a beat, “Go out?”

  “Yep. On a date.”

  I sigh, “Tyson, I already told you… I don’t date.”

  He begins laughing again and I look at him in confusion not sure what I said that’s so funny. While a part of me is definitely screaming inside telling me to say yes; to tell him I will meet him any time, anywhere. The other part, the part that remembers how overwhelmed I felt just a little while ago, and the reality in which I live, is telling me I can’t. “What’s so funny?”

  I’m surprised when he stands. He throws our trash away and before I realize it he leans in and gives me a kiss on the cheek. His lips linger for a moment and the hair on the back of my neck and arms stands on end. The feeling of his mouth on me does crazy things to my body. My belly warms again, and the junction of my legs clenches with need. Thoughts of his lips moving along other parts of my body, has me feeling flush. He backs away and for a moment, I wonder if he’s going to kiss me on my lips. When he doesn’t, I exhale softly realizing I was holding my breath in anticipation. When he reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, I’m mesmerized by the look in his eyes. “Beautiful…we just had a date.”

  “W-w-what?” I stammer. “No, we didn’t’
.”

  He smiles, “I bought you food and a drink. We had a great conversation, which involved us getting to know each other better, and we just had our first kiss. I’ll pick you up for our second date Friday night.”

  “I-I-I…” I’m completely dumfounded, and apparently unable to form a coherent sentence.

  “You have that effect on me too, beautiful. Now be a good girl and give me your address.”

  I feel like I have no control over my mouth when I’m suddenly blurting it out, and watching him dumbly as he plugs it into his phone. “I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something sexy.”

  I’m still sitting staring after him as he winks at me again and walks away.

  I’m not sure what the hell is wrong with me. Am I becoming soft or weak? Headed to pick up Sydney for the date I basically demanded I’m feeling… is this nervousness? What the fuck? I don’t do nervous. Not in years. This is pissing me off. I’m Tyson Fucking Martin, I kick people’s asses and take names. I can point a finger at any chick I want after a fight, and she’d be naked and underneath me in minutes if I wanted it. I mean, hell I’ve been to jail – nothing scares me. But apparently, picking up a girl and taking her to a coffee house makes me jittery.

  Fidgeting and clearing my throat, I wait at a stop light while simultaneously searching for a radio station.. Finding nothing I can tolerate at the moment, I quickly turn it off and tap my fingers on the steering wheel waiting for the light to change. Fuck. What did they do; extend the time of these?

  Hopefully she remembered. Earlier, I thought about texting Sydney to remind her about tonight, or to say something clever, or cute - I don’t know. I found that I both craved her company even though it’s only been a few days since our last encounter, but I also felt a little uncertain. Ok, so I actually felt insecure. Another feeling I’m not used to. I just wanted to make sure she’s going to be there when I arrive to pick her up. But, I kept myself busy instead so I wouldn’t be tempted.

  There’s something about her. Sure, she’s gorgeous. That long blonde hair just begs for me to grip it in my fist. Her lips are plump and when she wets them with her tongue, it’s like she’s silently asking for me to take a bite out of them. And her eyes; fuck, her eyes. I think they see right through me. I don’t intimidate her like most people; she laughs at my bullshit jokes and pushy attitude. She’s not one of those girls that will just lay down if I snap my fingers and I love it. With one look of those baby blues, surrounded by those dark curly lashes, she undoes me. She possesses something that calls to me; it’s like there’s a deeper understanding between us that our souls are aware of even if we aren’t yet. I think my soul sees its match in her eyes and spirit, and the effect it has on me is disarming. It’s what keeps me going back for more.

  “Oh god,” I mutter mortified at the shit circulating in my mind. I scratch at my chin and shake my head. She’s making me… want something I don’t even understand. Is this what going crazy feels like? Maybe parental genes are just now coming to light in me. Oh shit, that’s a debilitating thought. I just know that I need more of her.

  Pulling up to the address where my GPS directed me, I look at the apartment buildings before me. They all look alike. I slowly drive through the parking lot, looking for her building number and quickly locate it and park. I jump out of my truck, then tell myself to slow down and halt the display of eagerness, even if I feel that way. Patting the hood as I pass, I make my way to her front door and knock. Impatiently shifting from one foot to the other, I raise my hand to knock again, louder this time, when the door opens.

  For a moment, I’m standing there with my hand raised in the air and speechless as I behold the sight before me. I know I told her yesterday to wear something sexy. I’m not sure why I said it, I didn’t even know where I was going to take her, I was just being a flirt I guess. I pictured her wearing a skintight dress that looked like a second skin. That’s what most chicks would wear after my request, but I’m delighted to see that Sydney is not one of them. She’s standing before me in a long black lace see through top thing that falls off her shoulder. The design of the lace swirling around is thick, but I can still see her black bra underneath, and hell yes, the cups runneth over. As if that’s not enough, the cut off shorts she’s wearing make her look like she’s got legs for days. What I wouldn’t give to have them wrapped around my waist, right the fuck now. Damn. At the end of those sexy stems, she’s sporting a pair of black chucks. I’m guessing she purposefully did the exact opposite of what I requested, and I fucking love it. If she thought this wouldn’t be sexy as hell, she’s dead wrong.

  Before I can tell her how amazing she looks, she tosses her long blonde hair over her shoulder and raises her chin to look at me. Something that can only be described as defiance shines back from her eyes, but it’s also in the tilt of her head and the pure challenge that’s emanating from her stance. She’s fucking perfect for me. “Hopefully this works,” she gestures to her clothes, “because I’m not changing.”

  My wide grin makes her visibly relax, “Beautiful, I wouldn’t let you change even if you wanted to. You look perfect,” I tell her truthfully. Tucking a run away hair behind her ear, I admire the long blonde strands that curl in waves down her chest and breasts. The contrast of her blonde hair against the black of her top is striking and I can’t help but imagine what it would look like spread out on my pillow. When I feel a twitch below the waist, I slightly shake my head, as if doing so will rid me of such thoughts. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes.” She turns to grab a small purse off a table, then I step back so she can lock her door. I put my hand to the small of her back and gently steer her to the street where my truck is parked. “Nice ride,” she says admiring my bright shiny red truck. “Do you have a step stool to help me get inside?” I bark out a laugh at the unexpected question and jokingly open the passenger door, then I bend my knees a little and link my hands together as if making a step. She rolls her eyes, pushes me out of the way and climbs in herself. I think I fall in love with her right there. It’s the sassiness that shines through now and then that gets me. She always tries to keep a serious look on her face, but the gentle curve at the corner of her mouth always gives away her self-amusement. I love it.

  Jogging around to my side I get in and buckle up, then I turn to look at her. “I know that I pretty much told you that I was picking you up tonight, but that doesn’t change the fact that you didn’t have to listen to me. I half expected to show up and find that you weren’t here. But, I’m glad you are. I’m looking forward to spending some time with you.”

  She nods and those luscious lips give me a smile, “Me too.” Starting the truck and putting it in gear, I pull away from her place and begin heading to our destination. “So, where are we going anyway?”

  “Wherever I take you.” She raises an eyebrow and I quickly continue as I laugh at her. “There’s a coffee house downtown called Java Hut, have you been there?”

  “Yes, I have. It’s a great place, good coffee too. My best friend Rena likes me to go there with her to check out the Indie bands that play there a lot.”

  “We’re headed there. I wanted to pick a place that would be low key, but also have decent food. I was trying to decide where to go when my sister’s boyfriend Jax, hooked me up out of nowhere.”

  “Hooked you up? What do you mean?”

  Turning to look at her while we are at a stoplight, I ask, “Have you ever heard of the band, The Sinners?”

  “Of course,” she nods, “who hasn’t?”

  “Jax is friends with the band. I guess they are in-between tours and a couple of them are playing a set at the coffee house tonight. Jax said it’s not been promoted at all – they wanted it that way Jax and Rowan can’t make it, so they called and asked me if I’d want to go. I jumped at the chance because they’re a great band… plus I was hoping to impress you.” I wink at her and like it when she smiles back.

  “Wow. That’s nice of them and I’m definitely impressed, do
n’t worry. I’ve never seen them in concert, have you?”

  “No, I haven’t, so I’m stoked too. Even though it will only be part of the band, I bet it will still be great. I’ll take it.”

  Pulling into their parking area, I’m happy to see that the lot isn’t packed. It seems that word hasn’t gotten out at all. Yet. We easily get a table and order coffees and sandwiches. Not unexpectedly, she’s already caught the eye of a few men, and I glare at anyone that even looks like they are thinking about looking at her for too long.

  Now that we’re here and settled, the tension in my shoulders eases up a bit. “You mentioned your best friend earlier, have you been friends long?”

  Her face lights up as she smiles, “Yes. We met in college and she’s my roommate. She’s a lot of fun – kind of crazy at times. We pretty much hit it off from the moment we met. She always makes me laugh.”

  “How does she do that?”

  “Well, I know this sounds bad, but she goes through men like water.” I raise my brow at her comment and she laughs, “I don’t mean it in a slutty way…well okay maybe she’s a little slutty,” she shrugs making me chuckle. “I mean, she’s got her reasons for dumping them, but the reasons are always petty, rather silly and pretty hilarious. I don’t think she realizes how crazy she’s being.”

  Loving the way her whole being is animated in her story telling, I want to keep her talking, “What do you mean?”

  “Well lets see… one man had a small mole on his neck that she said was growing a hair that made her quit in the middle of making out because she gagged.” I laugh at the funny visual. “Another, she said had a ring finger longer than his middle finger and it freaked her out. One guy had a weird aura, and another she swore had a third nipple.”

  I laugh, “Wow. You weren’t kidding.”

  “Nope. She could be her own reality show. She would certainly entertain the masses.”

  “It sounds like it,” I take a drink of coffee. “And what about you?”